Today I am giving space to my dear friend Kerriane Coombes. She is hoping to spread the word about her debut novel Running Home
But first a bit about Kerrianne
The relevance of Sex.
People have often asked me what it is like to write a sex scene in my books. And I always shrug and say ‘I find the opening scene harder.’ I always find that the time I get to the sexiness, the characters are writing the scene themselves! By the time the romance, suspense and need is in place, it always feels pretty natural to write the sex.
I write adult romance—and adults have sex. That is my answer when someone asks me if it is necessary in a book. I understand that there are people out there who don’t like to read sex—especially graphic sex. Equally, there are people who don’t like to read crime ßMe. I totally get that books are very personal. But the nice thing about a book is that YOU CAN CHOOSE what you read, right?
When I am reading a romance, I do want to read a little more. When I write romance—I do want to write more.
I love writing. I love writing romance. I love writing those tentative first kisses, the first time his hand snakes down her spine. The first time he tastes her. Oh, and that moment when their eyes meet, and love pulses through their hearts… *Le sigh*
I just enjoy matchmaking. ;-)
I bet if I asked 100 romance authors what the hardest scenes are to write, I don’t think many of them would say the sex scene. Am I wrong? I would love to know.
Tom Cane, Ex-military man and self-professed recluse turned farmer, wants nothing more from life but the chance to wallow in his own pity. The shrapnel lodged permanently in his leg a daily reminder of his failings during his last tour of duty. On a cold, rainy, British evening fate delivers a new reason to live in the form of Joanne Sloane, the daughter of a socialite and abused wife of an up and coming businessman. Desperate and in fear of her life, she flees her home and stumbles onto Tom's land. Together their passions ignite and the need to rescue one another entangles them in a bitter fight for their lives.
“Tell me what he did to you, Jo.” Tom raised his hand and ran the backs of his fingers across her soft cheek. A blue bruise that he hadn’t seen before her shower glared at him from the perfection of her face. The cut in her lip still looked angry even though it was no longer bloody. He could see what the bastard had done to her physically, but there was something more that terrified her.
She shook her head against his question, even as she leaned into his touch. Her dark chocolate eyes pleaded silently with him. It hurt Tom to see her fear, her desperate longing for something that he was finding hard to resist.
“I can help you. I want to help you.” He leaned closer and flattened his palm to her cheek. The soft caress of her hair tickled at the back of his hand and Tom felt his cock stiffen. She sat perfectly still as he slid closer, closing the distance between their bodies, until their thighs touched. With one hand still on her face, his other caught the heavy tears that tracked down her cheek.
Her pain was obvious and hard to watch. Her hands twisted in her lap, even as she stared up into his eyes. He sensed a longing, a need, in her stare that he desperately wanted to fill. If only she could trust him with the details of what had brought her into his life.
“Let me help you, Jo.”